


His Handsome Hero

by likehandlingroses



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A little angst, A little sexy, M/M, a little cute, a lot of romance, because High Medieval Period gays are...very important, but also shoutout to the Romantic and Victorian period gays I threw in a little RAIN for y'all, roderick lived season 6 AU, some Existential ANGST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 02:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14202720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likehandlingroses/pseuds/likehandlingroses
Summary: After the Black Fairy's defeat, Roderick comes to stay with the Golds. Gideon, delighted to have his friend back in his life, tries and fails to ignore an increasingly obvious reality: their relationship has changed.





	His Handsome Hero

The Black Fairy’s defeat brought dozens of children to Storybrooke and twice as many adults. Nearly every home opened its doors to a new occupant, for Storybrooke residents knew how it felt to be out of place. Gideon oversaw most of the arrangements, with the help of his parents. He’d have liked nothing more than to find the true families for each and every stolen child. However, given the difficulty of jumping realms and the differences in time passage, Gideon knew he’d be lucky to find the parents of even a handful.

In a matter of days, the Gold home went from overfull to practically empty (much to Rumple’s relief). Soon, only Roderick remained, and Gideon supposed he would stay as long as Gideon himself did.

The Black Fairy had made her point with some sleight of hand; Roderick was too useful to actually kill, and the Black Fairy had brought him along with her to Storybrooke, hidden in her pocket, should Gideon’s heart fall out of her control. Belle had found him in the basement of the library after the Black Fairy had died and the spell had worn off, frightened and half-starved.

His parents gave Roderick his own room, but—like Gideon—he suffered from terrible nightmares. It helped, to be near each other, and soon Gideon hardly saw his own bed. Hearing Roderick’s gentle breathing took Gideon back to a time he’d never been able to forget, back when they were boys and he’d believed that he could protect his friend. If he closed his eyes, Gideon could almost convince himself they’d never grown up, never been torn apart and forced to find their way in the world without each other.

The bed was warmer with Roderick in it, and when he stirred, everything moved. The first week, Gideon woke up each time Roderick so much as turned on his side. He’d grown so used to sleep being a solitary affair, and suddenly it was dynamic. Intimate. Gideon soon grew used to Roderick’s movements, but he never stopped marveling at how comforting it was to have someone near. Every so often, Gideon would wake up to find Roderick’s head nestled against his shoulder, or their legs tangled at the ankles.

It was nice, Gideon thought, to wake up and find Roderick closer than when they’d fallen asleep. Sometimes he’d move still closer, placing an arm across Roderick’s chest or letting his head rest against Roderick’s. Then he’d shut his eyes again, trying to capture how it felt. He’d never had anyone close to him before, and the sensation became addicting. Stomachs could twist in a pleasant way, he found, and the heart could beat fast without being accompanied by fear.

One morning, Gideon awoke with excitement to the patter of raindrops on the roof. The weather of this world was still new, and he’d yet to see more than a sprinkle of rain. However, as he moved to sit up, the weight of Roderick’s head on his chest stopped him. This time, Gideon remembered how the shift had occurred.

In the middle of the night, Roderick had begun tossing and turning, letting out low cries of fear and pain. Gideon, half awake, drew him close, without a second thought. Roderick settled down, hardly waking from his sleep, leaving Gideon with warm feeling in his chest.

The feeling returned again when he awoke to find Roderick still curled up in his arms. Comfort didn’t take words; he’d been able to ease his friend’s pain by something so intuitive, so simple...more and more, Gideon had come to realize how complicated the Black Fairy had made the world, how much her cynicism had blinded her to the basic truths of what it meant to be a person.  

It didn’t cost anything to be tender and understanding, to step outside oneself for a moment and take hold of someone else to comfort them. And Roderick was so easy to care for, Gideon thought. They understood each other; Gideon knew he’d be equally excited to see that it had rained.

“Roderick…” he whispered, one hand gently kneading Roderick’s shoulder.

“Hm?” Roderick murmured, his eyes still closed.

“It’s raining. Really raining, this time.”

Roderick opened his eyes, taking in the morning. It took him a moment to realize he was sleeping on top of Gideon. He lifted his head slowly and gave Gideon an apologetic look.

“Sorry I trapped you.”

“It’s fine,” Gideon said. “It was nice.”

Roderick got a strange look in his eye, one that Gideon couldn’t place. He was happy, but there was something else, too. It was as though he’d come closer without moving at all.  

“It was.”

* * *

Rain, Gideon found, was best enjoyed inside, next to a fireplace, preferably with a warm drink in hand. Though they normally conducted their reading lessons outside, Gideon was perfectly happy with their new location. So many parts of life in this world were beautiful, and he had nearly thirty years of catching up to do.

Roderick didn’t appear to appreciate the change in scene as much as Gideon did; he was too busy concentrating. His mother told Gideon that reading might come as a struggle to Roderick at his age, but Gideon hadn’t really believed her. Roderick was clever; his mind could capture and hold almost anything and spit it back out when the time was right.

Of all things, Gideon wouldn’t have guessed that the alphabet would trip him up.  

“How do you just remember what every letter is?” Roderick asked in frustration, after mixing up ‘p’ and ‘b’ again.

“It’ll come with practice,” Gideon said. “Soon you won’t even remember how you know. Like walking.”

He’d said it before, but Roderick smiled anyway.

“Thank you. For helping me,” he said. “Not just with this…”

“Of course. I’ll always help you. You know that.”

“I do.” That look was back in Roderick’s eye, and this time he really did come closer, his eyes flickering over Gideon’s face, searching. More than once, they landed on his lips, and Gideon felt his heart pound in his chest as he leaned closer, hardly knowing why.

Still, Roderick kept searching, and Gideon didn’t know what he wanted. Finally, he let his own eyes fall to Roderick’s lips, then back up, feeling silly. He couldn’t make his own eyes look like that--like nothing else in the world existed but what they saw.

It was enough. Roderick came so close Gideon was afraid to breath, then caught his bottom lip in a kiss.

Their noses were too close together, and Gideon pulled back and moved a few centimeters to the right before kissing him again. Better. That felt better.

They kept going, tentatively at first. None of the stories Gideon read ever talked about how long it took to get used to kissing someone. They always spoke about sparks and fire and magic; perhaps he and Roderick were doing it wrong? But it didn’t feel wrong--it felt like it would come with practice.

Soon, Gideon’s mouth opened wider each time they kissed. He wanted more. He wanted to feel more, take more. It was so _nice_ , so good, so—

Roderick gave a satisfied moan, and Gideon felt a chill run up his spine. He pushed Roderick away and scrambled up from the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Roderick said, standing up. Gideon backed away from him.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “It’s not fair to you.”

“We don’t have to,” Roderick said, though his voice was pained. “We can stop. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. Everything’s ruined, now. It’s all ruined.”

“What is?”  Roderick asked, stepping forward. But Gideon backed away, feeling sick with shame.

“Leave me alone. Please.”

* * *

 

 

Gideon heard the front door open and close. His parents were home, and they’d be up in his room asking questions in a matter of minutes. Gideon didn’t think he could answer them. He traced his fingers over the letters of _Her Handsome Hero_. He’d thought he’d taken the lessons the book had taught him to heart. But he’d been wrong.

“Gideon?” his mother said, knocking on his door. “Can I come in?”

Though every part of him wanted nothing more than to stay hidden, Gideon let her in. She was his mother, and that counted for something.

Belle sat down next to Gideon on the edge of the bed. “So...Roderick seemed upset.”

Gideon didn’t answer, and Belle placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can tell me.”

“He kissed me,” Gideon said, bracing himself for the impact of saying the words out loud. “And I kissed him. I didn’t even think...it took me a minute to realize what that meant. It just happened.”

Belle nodded, looking more thoughtful than distraught. The world hadn’t stopped.

“Did you want to kiss him?”

“I don’t know,” Gideon said, knowing even as he said it that the answer was hardly the truth. He tried to amend it. “I know I shouldn’t. He’s my friend.”

“You can still be his friend, Gideon,” Belle said. Now she was smiling. How could she be smiling? Gideon looked down at _Her Handsome Hero_. Surely she remembered?

“But in this book, Gideon says his love for Sir Ewan cannot be surpassed. But they’re not...their love is more than...it’s different. From that.”

Belle’s brow knit in confusion. “So, you think he loves Cornelia less because he kisses her? That his love for her isn’t as important?”

“No, because she knows that he wants to be married from the start,” Gideon said. “But if he spent all his time protecting her and endured trial after trial to keep her safe...and she spent her time in his company because she believed his intentions were to...talk with her and teach her and make her happy, and then he kissed her? Isn’t there something wrong in that?”

Gideon felt tears coming to his eyes, but Belle still looked unconcerned.

“Why would there be, if they both wanted to?” she said. “And who’s to say that Sir Ewan might not want to kiss Gideon just as much as Cornelia did? Would you think less of him?”

Gideon had never considered the possibility before. The contents of the page were all that existed, surely? It seemed silly, to add to the story. Anything could be anything, and what was the use of that?

“I...I don’t know,” he said. “But aren’t they two different things? To have a friend, and to have a love?”

“I don’t think so,” Belle said. “Not always.”

Gideon didn’t know what to say to that. Belle looked him over, gave a sad sort of smile, and sighed.

“I didn’t give you this book to confuse you, Gideon. It’s just a story. A beautiful one, I think. But just one story. There are so many. And you have to live yours. Other people’s stories can help us find our way, but our paths are always our own, in the end.”

She was right; Gideon could feel it. But something still nagged at him, something much more frightening.

“I can’t love someone,” he blurted out the second he hit upon the words. “I’m not ready. I’m not. I don’t even understand my own feelings.”

“You already love someone,” Belle said, though Gideon heard something ragged in her voice. “Now, it might not be a good idea to go and get married right away…but you care for Roderick, and he cares for you. You already have a relationship. You’ve had one for a long time. This is just another part of it. All love comes down to the same things, really. Trust and respect. Wanting to see someone else happy, sharing their joy and their pain...you have all of that.”

“We do,” Gideon admitted. Belle squeezed his shoulder, and he allowed himself a smile.

“You know, I was friends with your father before I realized I was in love with him,” Belle said. “And it’s not as though there’s a magic moment where one becomes the other. We’re still friends, and the things I loved him for before we fell in love...they still exist. I still love them, just as much.”

Of course. He knew that, already. Why had he forgotten it? It wasn’t just the world around him that was varied and exciting, incredible in scope and possibilities. _He_ was. Everyone was.

Perhaps _Her Handsome Hero_ did end with its pages. But what did that matter to him? He was real and alive and in love.

He was in love.

The thought made Gideon suddenly stand up, and Belle jumped. He looked down at her, guilty but excited.

“I need to talk with Roderick.”

* * *

 

Roderick had retreated to his own room, and Gideon found him staring blankly out his window at the rain. He turned when he heard Gideon’s footsteps, an unreadable expression on his face as he waited for Gideon to speak, his fingers clutching at the quilt under him.

“I’m sorry,” Gideon said, looking out the window as he said it. “The more time I spend away from her, the more I feel like I don’t know how to be a person. I hate it.”

“If I misunderstood, I’m sorry,” Roderick said, looking pale. “I really am.”

“No.” Gideon almost spoke over him. “No, I was the one who misunderstood. I’m…I’m fond of you. You’re my friend, and you always have been. I hope you always will be. But there’s other things that I feel, too. I didn’t know they could be there, so I ignored them. I don’t want to anymore.”

The words were like kissing: they felt clumsy at first, a bit terrifying. But by the end, Gideon didn’t want to stop. Roderick looked down at his knees, though Gideon could see a smile crossing his face. He waited for what seemed like ages for Roderick to respond, but he wasn’t afraid. They understood each other.

“It’s like in the book,” he finally said. Gideon frowned in confusion, and Roderick said:

_“I loved you first as something apart from myself, as though we were two trees blowing the same way in a fierce wind. But with time, the roots of great trees run together. I do not know if we are yet great. But surely our roots have intertwined, and I would not separate them for the world.”_

The words had never seemed so alive--perhaps they didn’t end with the page, after all. Or maybe Roderick had the power to call them back to life. It wouldn’t surprise Gideon one bit.

“That’s _Her Handsome Hero._  Sir Ewan.”

Roderick grinned. “I always liked that bit.”

“He fancied Gideon, didn’t he?” Gideon laughed, sitting down next to Roderick on the bed.

“You never realized?” Roderick said with a chuckle. “I always thought so.”

Knowing that his own eyes had that look in them, Gideon leaned in and kissed him, letting one hand come up to Roderick’s cheek. It was too cold, he could tell. But they had plenty of time to get it just right.

“Thank goodness I have you here to teach me.”


End file.
